Its a little like Mecca. Or maybe its like the Oscars. Or
maybe something about halfway between them.

Ive
been hearing about it for years, but its always been just a little
too far away. Anyway I was determined this year to BE THERE.

I took the decision to race the CZ400, which turned out to be a very good
one. I bought the CZ because I want to race Vintage, but the discouraging
experiences and cost involved with the gearboxes of the MX250 and the
CR250M has had me racing Evolution Bikes over the last few years. So I
could take one bike, and I was determined that it be the CZ. I drove down
with Bobby Gravely, my VDR Evolution friend.
I met Bobby this year at Hammer & Tongs. Bobby races a 79 XR500.

4:30am on Friday, in pouring rain we loaded up the small white pickup.
After loading up all our stuff the truck looked like the Beverly Hillbillies.
We
drove down Interstate 5 all day, into the light, out of the rain, into
the sun. We drove all day, and into darkness again. Finally we couldnt
drive anymore. We were about four miles from 152, which cuts over to Hollister,
and got a room at Motel 6.

The
next morning at 4:45 we got up and kept rolling, and soon we were there.
We
pulled up to the track in the twilight and the first person I saw was
John Gulliford, and I said hey John out the open window, but when
the man turned around it was Dave Janiec who looked at me quite rightly
as though I were an alien. As we unloaded our gear, and I saw the many
cool bikes I began to wish I had an Evolution Bike.

Saturday
was Evo (Post-Vintage) and Sunday was Vintage. OK- awesome. Now that's
how it ought be done. Cheers to the organizers! Bill Row went one coler
by suggesting that I should ride his Husky.
And that was that: I signed up to race the 1976 Husqvarna WR360 in 500
Historic.... my old stomping grounds! Hey wait- arent I the defending
champion? I think I am.

Hollister is cool. I thought the track was EXCELLENT. It is big and fast,
a bit the way Eugene is, but with better dirt; Dirt instead of Clay. Madras,
by comparison is faster and straighter, but with rocks. The track swoops
here and there, and because it has BERMS is wide enough for all kinds
of lines, which makes for really fantastic racing. The last element on
the track is the elevator shaft- a drop off into a gully and up
the opposite side. Very cool- you had to be carefull not to throw it away
going off the edge!

SATURDAY: POST-VINTAGE (EVOLUTION) RACING
500 Historic heat  OK- Im on
the line, on a bike Ive ridden for the first time today. But Im
the King of Adaptability, and I got a decent start. To my surprise, as
I charged forward, who should I see ahead but Bobby, my friend & roommate
(in the tent) and I had force my way past on a slippery uphill section.
I cant remember what lap it was- I rather think lap 2, but it may
have been on the first lap. The bike was perfect- it was awesome. I finished
2nd out of ? Riders.

here
I chase Colten Bear in the morning heat.

500 Historic main  For the afternoon moto I got a better start,
but there was Bobby still ahead! I thought Jeeez! and I had to chase down
a number or riders, slicing and hewing my way forward just to get to where
Bobby was. His XR500 is a fast mofo, and Bobby was riding like a champion-
pretty damn cool. Remember this guy was a top Rodeo Bull Rider, and large
bucking things dont seem to phase him. I was holding the flag for
Hellbent Racing and had to administer the old Coup de Grâce down
the elevator Shaft.

It
wasnt easy- the hairpin just before the drop-off was tight, and
Id feather the throttle through in 2nd gear, and shift into 3rd
before I left the ground, and as I fell, wind out the engine, to make
it jump forward as I touched down again. I say cheers to the Man. Again
I finished 2nd.

NIGHT----------------------------------------------------------------------
The day was very good- it was very hot, and I got good & sunburned.
But every person I spoke with was awesome. However dark was approaching,
and with night falling the decision to stay had to be made. Where would
we go? With no reservations, in an unfamiliar town, wed have to
go 45 miles back to I-5 practically to find a motel-6 that wasnt
full to the rafters. So with spirits falling, I bargained with a fellow
that wed put up our tent in his swapmeet spot overnight, and he
could leave his tools as wed be there.

Of course I hadnt any provision for the ground which was very hard
and rocky. I had no foam pad or anything because the truck was SO full.
At 7pm I was exhausted both from racing and from being beaten by the sun
all day, and now getting more miserable by the minute, I wish that wed
made arrangements to get a motel. Dark fell early- of course it did- its
late October, but somehow the hot day made it seem as though it were August.
I saw that the night was going to be long and not comfortable.

It was way too early to turn in, but my mind was a blur and I decided
to turn in at least for a bit- I couldnt think what else to do,
and I thought I HAVE to lie down, as in NOW. I would maybe have dozed
a bit, but it was hard on the bones, and to help me to sleep the loudspeakers
were playing at a sharply audible volume some awful pop hits from the
old days n stuff which turns out to have been the Marshall Tucker
Band.

OK,
Vintage Motocross recreates the best of the sixties and seventies, so
we really needed something to balance it out. The worst part of the seventies
was a propensity for upbeat flute solos in Pop Music, and this album seems
to have a obscenely happy flute solo in every song which, through the
crackling loudspeaker, cut through the top of my skull like a Sawzall.

This
was maybe the lowest point on the trip- I was very unhappy and for a brief
time began to wish very much that Id never come on this trip- felt
quite clearly that I hated bikes and this scene and everything. But about
two hours later the music came to an end, and I slept.